Write for Rights: Write a Letter/Change a Life

Hashtag: #Write4Rights

Let's get ready to Write for Rights! 

December 10th, you can make a difference alongside other human rights supporters in homes, workplaces, schools, and public spaces around the world.

---> 10 Ways to Write for Rights

Meanwhile, here are a few tips and resources to help you get started!
 
Letter-writing cases: Take action on one or all of this year's important human rights cases. 

  
Letter-writing tips: Make your letters as effective as possible.
 
Get together with friends and family! Check out the Activism guide for fun and simple ways to gather with others.
 
Follow and share Write for Rights news on Facebook and Twitter

Encourage others to write!

​Send an email to friends and family about why you're writing and invite them to sign up at writeathon.ca
 

Let us know if you have questions or comments:  writeathon@amnesty.ca or 1-800-AMNESTY (1-800-266-3789)

The lone late rose

Published on Mogul

The lone late rose cut -
from thorns and bramble,
uprooted from limbs as legs,
and burnt sienna skied roots.

The lone late rose,
a most holy November
one of Indian summers,
of love lost,
re-birthed
and blessed.

The lone late rose
upon Italian marble,
stoic and bold,
beauteous and courageous,
sits. 

The lone late rose cut
as cheeks blushed,
as sweet cherry bitters,
slender and heavenly,
like Madonna and child,
like daVinci sketching
a divine revelation
on canvas.

The lone late rose was cut,
and the wind howled,
and the heavens cried,
and the lone late rose
not once complained,
yet wept, in silence.


The lone late rose
sent supplications
to the dirt and silt,
eve after eve,
grateful to be alive,
yet oh, ever so lonely.

And the lone late rose woke
to a most Vesuviant dawn,
one of mythology and magic,
one of precious hands
as angels wings,
embracing her existence,
pure.

And the late rose
was no longer lone,
and blooming beside her
was another lone late rose. 


And together
they adorn one another,
on Italian marble,
with cheeks blushed,
as sweet cherry bitters,
slender and elegant,
like Madonna and child,
like daVinci sketching,
a divine revelation. 

Phrase "The lone late rose cut" and photo © Edmund Cardoni
*This poem was inspired by photos posted by Mr. Cardoni when a single rose was cut in November during winter and after it was brought into the house, a pure white rose bloomed beside it.

someday

Published on Mogul

someday,
i want to hold your hand
introduce you
to the sunrise
as we watch
the Earth awaken
for us both,
the hues of heaven
a palette,
an artist’s canvas,
like birth.

someday,
i want to see your face light up
discovering wonder
on trails and peaks,
on craggy hills, in forests
in the majestic bark
of an old oak tree,
wavering in the breeze
the leaves rustling,
like music,
peace.

someday,
i want to tell you
to stand beneath a waterfall,
and witness your rebirth
by Mother Nature herself.

someday,
i want to drive with you
on seaways and trails,
and find meadows
untouched by the hand of man,
and lay down deep
in leaves of grass
both of us
together,
saying nothing at all,
silence.

one day,
we will experience
one another,
in all our majestic glories
side by side.

one day,
i simply wish
to see your smile,
the corners of your mouth rise,
as your eyes
show spirit
to me.

one day,
i will hear you bellow with laughter,
deep from your abdomen
at the silliest things,
as we are drenched in rainfall.
running for cover
from this mad, mad world,
beneath starshine
and constellations,
the entire universe
lit up,
for us,
only.

one day,
we will awaken
to the hues of heaven,
a palette,
an artist’s canvas,
and this most holy Earth
shall kiss us,
divine,
one day.